


Lost Poetry

by abluecanarylite



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abluecanarylite/pseuds/abluecanarylite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a series of 8 short stories depicting Dawn's life behind what we saw in season 7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back during Season 7, right around the end of high school and the start of college. So the writing might not be up to par with what I'm writing now. One day I'll work on editing it and making it a bit more beta'd.

_Tonight I close my eyes and see a strange procession passing me-_  
The years before I saw your face go by me with a wistful grace;  
They pass, the sensitive shy years, as one who strives to dance, half blind with tears.  
The years went by and never knew that each one brought me nearer you;  
Their path was narrow and apart and yet it led me to your heart-  
Oh sensitive shy years, oh lonely years, that strove to sing with voices drowned in tears. - “The Years” by Sara Teasdale

* * *

The shadow of the man before her waved. “Evenin’, Little Bit.”

Maybe she was still asleep, dreaming him here. Dawn rubbed her eyes, running a hand through her hair. “Spike?” somewhere deep inside her, she remembered what he had done to her sister and blood rushed to her cheeks. “Get out.”

She saw the shadow quiver and then kneel at the end of the bed. “Wouldn’t understand. Knew you wouldn’t understand. Dark days ahead, dark days. Have to keep my promises, don’t I, Pet? I made a promise, always the promises you get judged for in the end.” The moonlight from the window crept slowly over his pale face and she saw the trails of tears. “Said I’d be here, said I’d watch out for you. You’re my girl, you’re my only friend.”

Closing her eyes, she slid her hand underneath her pillow, took the knife Buffy had given her, and then lunged at him. He was taken unaware and was on the ground quickly.

He didn’t struggle.

Looking down at him, her knife pressing into his neck, she watch as tears started to fall down the sides of his face while he closed his eyes. “Go ahead, don’t deserve to live. Shouldn’t be forgiven. Broke too many rules. Father will surely beat me.”

“What-” Dawn let up on the knife, but still kept it close to his neck, “What’s wrong with you?”

Looking up, he met her eyes and laughed lightly. “Oh just a little pain.”

Standing up, she went to the window and looked out. “Get out, okay.”

When she turned around, she was startled to find him already standing behind her. She would have pushed him away or threatened him with the knife, but the sight of what lay under his ratty black shirt took away all her fear. Concern filling her face, she reached out and barely brushed the black silk. He lurched back, losing his balance and falling onto her bed. Dawn angrily set aside the knife and got back onto the bed where Spike hid his face and pressed himself into the warm comforter.

“Spike, why are there cuts all over your chest?” She crossed her arms, almost resembling her sister.

The vampire shook his head, muttering nonsense as he lay very still. But Dawn was tired and without patience, so using all her strength, she pushed Spike over and quickly sat on top of him. Before he could push her off, she pried his hands off his shirt and pulled it open to find raw cuts, some bleeding from all the movement he had done. Covering her mouth, all the hate she had built up for him faltered. Spike was silent, looking up at her as she studied the wounds – mesmerized. Now she saw him as some scarred victim, laying there trying not to cry, but also trying to gather himself. The latter took control and before she could ready herself, she was flung off the bed.

Tumbling onto the floor, Dawn cried out as she hit her nightstand. Pain blinded her briefly before she was able to sit up and look around. Spike was nowhere to be found. Even before she could get up to investigate, a weary Buffy opened her door and yawned, looking around the room. “Dawn? You okay?” 

Dawn quickly crawled back into her bed and pulled the covers over her. “Sorry. Nightmare.”

Her sister muttered something about warm milk before wandering out of the room. Dawn figured she was almost sleepwalking and wouldn’t even remember coming in to check on her. She listened for her sister’s door to close, and when it did, Dawn quietly slipped out of her bed to look around her room. It didn’t take her long to find Spike curled up in her closet, hands pulling his shirt closed. “Spike-”

His blue eyes looked up at her own and gave her a look of confusion. “Names not Spike, it’s William. No one ever calls me William anymore. Not even Dru. My pretty precious, whispering into my ear at night. Says I’m mad like her now, says I’m in the dark.” He suddenly started to cry. “It hurts.”

Reaching into the closet, Dawn took Spike’s hand and pulled him out. He didn’t fuss or struggle; he simply let her guide him to the bed and sat down. “Okay, William.” She squeezed his hand before making her way to the door. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to get the first aid kit.”

Spike started to sing softly to himself, drawing up his legs to his chest and rocking back and forth. _“Little bit, baby blue, pocket full of evil…”_

In the hall Dawn snuck into the bathroom and reached into the higher shelf, getting the first aid box. Grabbing a washrag, she quietly made her way back into her room, shutting the door without a sound.

_“…bloody nights, moonlight, waiting for the dawn.”_ Her friend glanced at her and dried his eyes. “What’s in the box? Not my birthday yet, Little Bit.”

She sat on the bed and opened the box, pouring peroxide into the rag. “Let me see those cuts, William.”

Spike shook his head, clutching at his shirt. “No.”

“Please Spi- William. I promise, I won’t hurt you. You can go to sleep right after if you want.” Dawn reached for his hand; “Don’t you trust me?”

These words caused another spell of tears to fall. He reached toward her with shaky hands and grazed her cheek. “Trust? Trust. You’re the only thing I trust.” He drew his hand back to his shirt and fiddled with the black buttons. “Do you like poetry? I use to write it. But no one listened. She hated it, they hated it. My pretty precious, she lied. No one ever listens, alive or dead, no one ever listens.”

“I’ll listen.” Dawn played with a piece of silk on his shirt. “You talk. I’ll listen. But you have to let me fix you up.”

He seemed to think about it briefly before nodding and slowly taking off the ratty black shirt. She held back her scared gasp when the shirt fell to the floor, revealing all the cuts and bruises covering his torso. Spike closed his eyes and tensed his muscles, waiting for the peroxide.

The first couple of cuts stung so much that she almost felt it herself, but after a while, he started to relax and whisper poetry randomly. Dawn listened intently as every word filled her. It seemed to come out effortlessly, as if the words were given to him, instead of having to be found. As she cleaned and bandaged his wounds, she lost what hate there had been for him, letting the friendship they had made, grow back in the emptiness in her heart.

“…Pet?”

Dawn woke from her daze, finding she had cleaned and bandaged all the cuts, and was now simply staring at his back, taking in his words. “Why did you stop?”

He cocked his head to the side and laughed lightly. “Your going to make a mess with that bottle.”

She looked down at the bottle of peroxide and saved herself from spilling it all over the bed. “Oh!” She capped it and put everything back into the box. “You’re all bandaged up.”

The vampire glanced at himself, “Like a mummy.” He looked off, lost in his thoughts again. “Mum use to take us to the Museum. Mummy’s were my favorite.”

“William, I’m really tired. Look, if you want you can stay here but you better leave before sunrise. I don’t want to explain why you’re here to Buffy.” Dawn set the first aid kit on the floor and crawled under the covers. “I hope you feel better.”

Unexpectedly, Spike slipped into the covers with her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. The gasp caught in her throat and she was about to choke out a scream but he simply closed his eyes and laid his head on hers.

He was asleep.

Dawn breathed out with relief, “Good night, William.”

“Good Night, Little Bit.”


	2. This Dance

When Buffy returned home, late in the night, Dawn was already gone. It was luck that had kept her sister from coming into her room that evening and luck that lead the young woman through the streets - searching. The moon was high and shone down on her, giving her an unearthly glow. She didn't fear what could be in the shadows or her sister, who could be out looking for her now- she only felt betrayal. The warmth that had filled her the other night was gone and now what had grown inside her heart for William was crushed.

Entering the Graveyard, she brushed passed trees and gravestones, heading toward the crypt where she and Spike had shared many stories. There she would find him-

"Do you like Daisies?" a voice whispered, causing Dawn to bump into a rose covered gravestone and lose her balance. Looking back she found no one around, only the far off glow from the graveyard's chapel. She was caught in it, as if the flickering was a sign. Sitting back up, Dawn kept her eyes on the light, questions starting to haunt her-

The horrific scream that rang through the air caught her off guard and what had been a walk to an old friend's, turned into a full on run.

It was then that she heard the voices, the whispers on the wind, the haunted world.

"Spike! William!" her heart raced as the world around her suddenly went from still and quiet, to raging with voices. "William!" she covered her ears nearing the chapel, "William!"

Bursting through the doors, Dawn found she was no longer where she should have been. But rather, another place, a memory? Looking into the crowded room, she saw a familiar man off to the side hunched over a tiny writing book.

"Excuse me, Miss, are you okay?" a girl about her age took her hand, but did not break her gaze. "You're bleeding, Miss."

Blood.

Dawn looked down at her fingers; she found several pricks of blood starting to well up. There was enough to fall to the floor. Numbly, she clenched her fist and ignored the maid's attempt to take her to the kitchens. "Leave me alone."

She strode forward, unaffected by the change in scenery, she would figure it all out later - Spike was more important now. "William." Dawn said again, now stern and filled with questions.

The man in question turned toward her and the room full of people turned with him - the room darkened. The voices, the voices were back and all around her the crowd changed. But in her, the same warmth filled her heart and she swore the blood on her hand glowed.

"Miss?" a gentle voice broke through to Dawn as she watched her bloody hand.

There was a clatter and she looked up to find William standing before her - except this wasn't the Spike- the William she was use to. The old friend she knew didn't have normal golden curls, pretty British words, or glasses on the tip of his nose. He also never gave her that nervous look the shyer boys got when they looked at her.

William knelt down and picked up what had fallen from her hand - an elegant fan that smelled of cedar and had delicate carvings covering it. He gently placed it back into her hand and offered his arm. Dawn stood confused for a minute before remembering something that Spike had helped her with in school. She shyly took his arm and-

She looked down at herself briefly, realizing she wore a dress in many layers - all in blues. Also, her hand was no longer bleeding - and safe to help her pick her skirt up so she wouldn't trip. Dawn bit her lip - this was getting weirder and weirder.

As they walked back toward where she had first seen him, he nodded at many people as they past. Everyone just gave her a displeased look and turned away. She wanted to run back home, she wanted out of this weird dream - even if it meant not being able to tell Spike what was on her mind.

"I do apologize," there was that nervous stutter again, "I do not believe we have properly met - few look for me-" She looked his way, trying to ignore the stares as they reached the corner seats.

Offering his hand, William let her sit first before sitting down beside her. Dawn looked at the fan, trying to get back her composure - it wasn't working. "Spike, it's me, Dawn-"

William dropped his small book as soon as she spoke. In a low whisper he leaned toward her and looked straight into her eyes. "Of course! An American." He laughed softly, taking her hand. "I should have known by the manners."

Offended, she slapped his hand with the fan. "Hey!"

He was clearly stunned by the action and guilt filled his features. "I do apologize, miss." He looked down at his book, looking like a scolded puppy.

The soft spot for him came back again, but only a little. Spreading out her fan, Dawn let the scented breeze cover her as she looked around the room trying to mimic what the women around her were doing. She sat up straight, pouted her lips a little, and nodded at the few men who glanced her way. This was almost fun - if it wasn't scaring her to death.

Why was she here? Why was Spike… full on William? Why was she bleeding?

"William!" a man with curly brown hair and a twitchy mustache walked over toward them, followed by a rather stuck up looking woman who reminded her of all the snobs at school.

William stood, shyly nodding toward the man, "Good evening, Charles." He kissed the woman's hand. "Madame Wilhart." 

"Good evening! And who is this? A friend?" Charles laughed loudly, as if wanting to be heard. "William, the Bloody Awful Poet has a friend!"

_Bloody Awful Poet?_ Dawn's cheeks flushed, hearing this. Again, the rage she had felt for her friend lifted and the friendship they had created grew. Standing, she snapped her fan shut and lifted her chin - her sister's glare filling her features. "Don't-" she remembered she had to use proper speech around here - didn't want to get thrown out. "I am appalled at your manners, sir!" She took a quick glance at William and found him dumbfounded - she was a bit amazed herself. "I will have you know he is a wonderful poet and destined for great things." She suddenly remembered a poem he had read her and looked down at the book. He said he had written it before coming to Sunnydale - she hoped it was before his death. "One I hold close to my heart is _To-_ …"

William stood, picking up right where she left off - staring at her in disbelief.

_"She was a lovely one - her shape was light_  
And delicately flexible; her eye  
Might have been black, or blue, - but it was bright,  
Though beaming not on every passer-by;  
'T was very modest, and a little shy.  
The eyelash seemed to shade the very cheek;  
That had the color of a sunset sky,  
Not rosy - but a soft and heavenly streak  
For which the arm might strike - the heart might break-  
And a soft gentle voice, that kindly sweet  
Accosted one she chanced to overtake,  
While walking slowly on iambic feet,  
In tones that feel as soft as heaven's own dew-  
Who was it! Dear young Lady, was it you?" 

Dawn looked down and smiled to herself. It was her favorite poem for many unknown reasons. Probably because it wasn't about Cecily. She was the last straw but not the first woman he had fallen for.

"I do say Madame…" Charles was now the one at a loss for words - but William was standing tall, a pleased smile on his face. "I do not remember ever meeting you - American, am I right?"

"Summers, Dawn Summers." Dawn smirked, not caring if it wasn't dignified. "You may address me as Miss."

Madame Wilhart rolled her eyes behind her fan and slid her arm around her husband's. "Excuse us, Miss Summers, William." She snapped her fan closed and pulled the man toward the ballroom.

Just as she left, William took her hand and kissed it. "Miss Summers that was amazing!" the same old happiness that she had grown to love shown in his eyes. "How ever did you know that poem? No one has ever read my poetry…" as quickly as the spark had flickered - it was gone and he looked at her with curious, nervous eyes. "You called me 'Spike' and you have this air about you - as if we are old friends." He looked her over, "Surely we were not school children together…" he looked off, "A servant perhaps…"   
How could she tell him, this clearly human version of her friend that she was someone from a hundred and twenty two years from now? That he would die soon because no one here, now, loved him.

The tears were unexpected, she tried to stop them but they just came, clouding her eyes and hurting her more than the thousands of questions that ran through her head. After a while, letting them fall down her face, she felt better. And through them she saw William taking out a clean white handkerchief from his coat pocket and drying her cheeks. His lucid gray blue eyes studied hers and she felt that kindred spirit in him again.

Except now, it wasn't about the blood, the blood in them - the power. It was about the hopes, the friendship - the need to know someone was there. Taking the handkerchief from his hand, Dawn finished drying her eyes and smiled at him. "Would you like to dance?"

The older man chuckled softly and she saw a hidden charm William rarely let show. "Manners woman, manners." He took her hand and his handkerchief, stuffing it back into his pocket. "Do you know how to dance properly." He looked ready to feel her fan across his hand again, but she didn't hit him - she was actually expecting the comment.

"I can slow dance." Dawn laughed softly, as he led her toward the ballroom. "I can show you how."

She knew he was considering it, especially since it seemed nothing else for him was working out. Maybe a little stepping out of etiquette _was_ in order. "Well, just this once - though I fear I will never be allowed into another dinner at this estate ever again."

Dawn rolled her eyes, "Don't w-" she was about to correct herself but he stopped her.

"Please, Miss Summers, I do not judge young women like yourself by their proper etiquette. You have already proven enough tonight that you are beyond anyone in this room." He drew her out into the extravagant ballroom and watched her marvel at its beauty. "It is only right that you may be yourself - as you have let me."

As she took in everything - the golden lights, the music, the people - she took in his kind words the most. They filled her and wove themselves into her heart. There was still that pain of what he had done to her sister - but now she realized it hadn't been William - it hadn't been her friend.

Turning toward him, Dawn took his hands and placed them at her waist, while she laid hers over his shoulders. He was looking stutter-y and nervous again - she was sure it was about having his hands in places that were not proper at the time. It made her smile. "If you want, you can teach me how you dance."

Without words, he nodded and gently took her hands from around his neck and placed one on his hip and then he placed his hand on hers, taking her free hand in his. "Just follow me and I am quite sure you will pick it up." He sighed, "Oh God, my days with the servants-"

She covered his mouth and laughed. "Shush! Just show me how to dance."

Like someone who was trying over and over to redeem himself he took in a deep breath and led her through a round about. Around and around - if she weren’t so intensely keeping her eyes on his; she would have been dizzy. But there they were, dancing, laughing when she stepped on his toes; she drank it in, this happiness. She wanted it, she needed it - it was what was missing.

Before she knew it though, the spinning stopped and Dawn found herself tiredly laying her head on his chest. The world spun and the dress was getting to her.

"Dawn." William stroked her hair - she wanted to cry again with the memories that brought up. "Miss Summers? Are you all right?" A slower song began to play and she nodded, making a motion about the spinning. "Ah," he held her close and she could feel his light smile. "You did very well."

Dawn whispered a 'thank you' but all she could think about was how; now, the room was darkening again - like before. The faces were changing and the haunted voices were swallowing up everything.

But his voice - William's voice surrounded her, protecting her from the impending darkness. His cologne lifted up around her and she was lost in his presence.

_"To-night I close my eyes and see_  
A strange procession passing me-  
The years before I saw your face  
Go by me with a wistful grace;  
They pass, the sensitive shy years,  
As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears. 

_The years went by and never knew_  
That each one brought me nearer you;  
Their path was narrow and apart  
And yet it led me to your heart-  
Oh sensitive shy years, oh lonely years,  
That strove to sing with voices drowned in tears." 

_Heart._ Dawn looked at the hand that had once been bleeding and saw both hers and William's covered in it. The scream was caught in her throat as she realized also that the front of her dress was stained with crimson - but not from her.

"No. No. No. No." Something in William changed as he stepped back, gaping at his hands and then at his chest. The same wild wide eye Spike had given her the other night was there as he stared at the slashes of blood and marks on his clothes. It was as if he had-

Covering her mouth, her own blood smearing over her face, she saw the mark of a cross that had burned into his chest. Tears stung her eyes but she didn't scream - she couldn't. She wanted nothing more than to take away the pain, the pain she knew both of them had. The pain of the burn, the pain of the cuts, the pain of this moment - what was this? A memory? Or had she really gone back in time?

_Blood._

Without warning, the world flickered and around her, Dawn saw the ballroom melt away and be replaced by the dark forgotten chapel. Spike, her William, stood before her shirtless and bleeding. The smell of blood was killing her.

Not saying a word to him, she franticly tried to wipe away the blood - her blood - onto her jeans, onto her shirt, onto anything. Then she madly rubbed at her face and realized it wouldn't go away without soap, water, and a good scrubbing.

That's when she was able to scream. Loud and filled with everything she was feeling, Dawn let it all out in one breath. Spike covered his ears and crouched down, trying to drown her out - but he didn't leave. When she was done, she sucked in deep breaths, hoping to get back what composure she had. But it never work, she knew that, and that made her cry harder.

"You lied!" Dawn screamed, the rage she had felt for her friend rising up again. "You're fucking sane! You just acted all weird so you could get closer to Buffy!" she picked up a candle and chunked it at him – he barely dodged it. "I thought we were friends! I thought you trusted me! You lied!"

She didn't expect what happened next, no one ever expects it. To expect a man covered in his own blood to pull you into a desperate embrace is insane. But it happened and it stopped the pain, it stopped the ideas she had about him.

"P-please, Niblet. D-don't hate me. I tried. I tried to be-" Spike's body shook, "Wanted to see if the costume worked."

"Costume?" she whispered, staring at the cross she knew he had burned himself on.

He pulled away and stood up straight, looking as if he was trying to find _his_ sanity. After a few minutes, he looked at her and gave a smile. "Evenin’ Bit. Done your homework? How's the bloody lot you call family?" the smile faltered and she watched him lose what grasp he had on 'Spike'. "I-I tried so hard."

Dawn realized she was watching William now. Spike had been the costume - the snarky vampire that had killed a million people for ages. Then she remembered what had happened earlier and stepped toward him. "How did you bring me back to your time?"

He shook his head wildly, "Blood, blood. Power in the blood. You're the soddin' Key, Bit. Dimensions and worlds are your thing - not mine."

_The blood_ \- she glanced at her hand and saw the deep slits made on her fingers were closing and the blood was dry. "I think I stepped into your memory. Not a world, not your time." Dawn looked toward him. "How did your cuts and burns come into that 'place'." She was starting to confuse herself. Holding her head she laughed. "What's going on, I came here to-" she stopped, looking up at where he stood.

At the cross's alter he took a seat, shaking horribly. The blood had stopped and was starting to dry, but the burn was probably still hurting pretty badly. Putting aside her problems, Dawn walked over to him and sat down, slipping her clean hand into his. Leaning on his shoulder she listened to the silence that followed and let it suffocate her - for his sake.

It felt like forever before he squeezed her hand. "Niblet?"

She took in a breath, realizing she had been holding it. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

Squeezing his hand, she closed her eyes and drifted off. "It's okay, William."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** “To-” by John Brainard (1796 - 1828) and “The Years” by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933)


	3. You Are Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written before watching “Same Place, Same Time”.
> 
> You can definitely tell I hadn't been in an airport post-2001.

_Willow is coming home today and it feels like we haven’t seen her in years. Though – that wouldn’t be far from the truth. Ever since Tara’s death, its like Willow went with her, or left for some long road trip no one knew about. You can tell something’s different – its all in Xander’s heart._ Dawn stopped writing and watched her uncle-figure drinking coffee and looking out the Airport window. _When Xander had gotten the letter from Willow, saying she was coming back, it was clear he held no grudge, no fear for her. The bond between Xander, Willow, Buffy and Giles still doesn’t make sense to me – false memories don’t help at all._

Starting in on another dry donut, Dawn put her journal back into her bag and stood. “Xander, I’m gonna go to that little store we saw next to the ticket booths – she won’t be here for another thirty, right?”

Xander woke from his thoughts and became his normally sweet self. “Hey, yeah, why don’t I come with you. Maybe I can find you an early birthday present.” He faltered, “Oh yeah, right…”

She knew he was just trying to get his mind off his friend – anyone could tell. “Yeah, unbirthday.” Dawn took his hand; much like a daughter would a father.

“So how’s school, who were those two you had over?” he really did try so hard to be someone she could look up to.

“School’s fine, I’m now known as the girl who has the weird sister.” Dawn rolled her eyes, “What’s new.” They neared the shop and she smiled a little. “My only friends right now are Kit and Carlos. They’re cool.”

“Are they still freaked by what happened the other day?” Xander asked, following her toward a stack of hoodies.

She searched through them, looking for a small and an extra large. “They’re fine. Kit’s still trying to get the courage to go into the girl’s bathroom and Carlos stopped going into the basement to smoke.” She found what she was looking for and quietly cheered. Xander took them from her and started to go for his wallet. Dawn stopped him. “You don’t have to, you know.”

He shrugged, “But I want to, so don’t turn down something free, okay?” Looking around they both noticed a shelf of vintage and, odds and ends CDs - but Xander pointed it out. “Why don’t you look through these while I pay for these.” He finally noticed she had gotten two. “Who’s the other one for?”

“Its for Kit – she loves black.” Dawn noticed a Billy Idol CD and another called “The Waltz”. Snatching them up, she thought about stealing them – but what was the fun in stealing a four-ninety nine CD?

 _Later…_  
Coming out of the terminal was like walking into another world. England and California – two different worlds. She wasn’t expecting anyone there, especially after what she had done. But there her best friend and surrogate niece stood all glowing and smiling – it was like coming home from a long journey.

“Dawn, you’ve grown over the summer.” Willow looked over at Xander and lost words. “Xan-”

Before she could get up enough nerve to tell him he looked better than the day she left, he was already hugging her tightly. She cried a little, feeling overwhelmed, but she figured she should have known – Xander would never leave her. And from her view behind Xander’s back, Willow saw Dawn wave her wave.

 _That night…_  
Spike woke from fitful dreams to find a familiar perfume in the air. It smelled of fresh lavender and reminded him of waltzing.

Waltzing. He sat up and saw something lying at the end of the aisle, toward the front door. With caution he crept near it, to find it was nothing but a black sweater with a hood and a golden sun rising on the horizon on its back.

It smelled of his, Little Bit. His Niblet.

A note fell to the floor as she slid the still warm sweater over his head. Picking it up he read the cursive that reminded him of his own.

 _Smile, William. Stay Warm._ Spike did smile, feeling the soft fabric. _Your girl – Dawn_


	4. Still Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happens after “Conversations with Dead People”

Buffy had no idea what had gone on at home that night. With a few words and herbs she had learned from Willow – the house looked exactly the way it had that morning. But Dawn didn’t fix herself. She was still bleeding from the cuts on her body and the blood that she had coughed up. But the blood didn’t bother her – it was the thought of what her mother had said. 

Because she knew it was true. 

It made her want to scream. All of this would have never happened if Buffy had never comeback. If Willow and the rest had never brought her back, everyone would have stayed together. She’d still have Willow and Tara as her Aunts. She’d still have Xander and Anya as her Godparents. Still have Giles as her Grandfather. Still have… Spike… as her friend. Her guardian. 

“I had a family before she brought you back.” Dawn whispered softly, watching as Buffy passed her door and Willow followed suite. 

But Willow stopped, peering into Dawn’s room like she use to. “Dawnie?” she closed the door. “Honey, what happened here. There’s a current of energy raging in the living room-” the witch noticed the cuts and stopped. 

Dawn was instantly up from her bed, hugging Willow tightly. “Why can’t it be like it use to be – before she came back? I want Tara and Spike to be here. I want my family back.” 

Holding Dawn close, Willow healed her without even saying a word. She knew how the girl felt “Shh…” she sniffed up the tears that started to burn her eyes. “Tara wouldn’t want us to cry, Dawnie. Neither would Spike.” 

Dawn wiped her eyes and nodded before pulling away. “Can I sleep with you tonight? I- I’m too scared-”

Willow drew her friend into another hug and pet her hair. “Come on. We’ll fight those nightmares together.”


	5. Nerd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after ‘Potential’

It had been a quiet week in their world. It gave Xander time to build bunk beds and Buffy time to train the Potentials. It gave Willow time to focus on school and Spike time to recover. But Dawn took this calm in the storm to get back into the circle that was forming in her own house. She didn’t want to be on the outside again when and if anything blew up.

That day, Andrew was less of a lost puppy and more of a person. He had already helped make snacks for the Potential Squad, gave her advice on how to work out her geometry, borrowed some old clothes from Xander, and hadn’t said anything too outrageously geeky since she got home from school. It was starting to scare her.

Dawn looked over from the desk at him. “Andrew?”

He opened an eye and peered her way. “Yeah?”

“If your scheming something, I just wanted you to know, that I’m really good with a sword and I’ll cut off all your favorite parts – alphabetically.”

She had never heard him laugh so calmly. He always acted so nervous when anyone of them was around. But that week he was different. He was less of an annoying roommate and more of someone she could talk to.

“Don’t worry, Dawn, I’m just enjoying the peace and quiet.” He sat up and walked over to the desk where she was doing her homework. “Come on, lets go check out how Xander is doing.”

“I gotta finish my chemistry.” She replied, looking back at her work.

Andrew placed a hand on the back of her chair and leaned over her shoulder. He studied her worksheet briefly before he took her sparkly blue pen and finished of the equation. “There. You just got to remember those two chemicals are always mixed together to create the base.” He beamed at his handiwork. “Its been a while since anyone since anyone has needed my help.”

Dawn took her pen back and looked up at him. “But I never asked for your help.”

He shrugged. “Neither did Gandalf, but Frodo still went by his own free will.”

Dawn groaned, packing up her things. “You’re such a geek.”

The comment caused Andrew to shake his head and smile. “And you’re such a nerd – but you don’t see that.”

“I’m not a nerd!” she punched him in the arm and start up the stairs.

He laughed, rubbing where she hit him. “What’s a Pooka? What’s Telepathy? How do you load a crossbow properly? Can you speak Sumerian? Who plays chess with Amanda? Whose always got her nose stuck in a book?”

She stopped on the stairs and reluctantly looked back at him. “I’m still horrible in geometry.”

Andrew shrugged again, “Einstein was horrible in math. Least you can handle a sword.”

She felt herself blush.


	6. Amanda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place the night of ‘Dirty Girls’.

“What?” Everyone turned to find her standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She hadn’t been able to sleep and had come down when she heard Spike’s voice. “Who’s in the hospital?”

Andrew was immediately by her side. “Its okay-” she barely glanced his way, but she gave him plenty of warning to back away. “I’ll be over here.”

Dawn was persistent; her eyes set firmly on Spike. “What happened?”

He opened his mouth to say, again, what was going on, but Giles interrupted him by pushing past. “Go back to bed Dawn, its nothing you need to worry-”

Dawn’s eyes became fierce – blue eyes flaring like a storm. Willow shared a worried glance with Spike before the two instinctively stepped back. As if on cue, Dawn shoved Giles – a man almost twice her size – back into the cabinets before storming up to the vampire. “You said something about Amanda? What happened? Did they hurt her?”

He opened his mouth again but words failed him. All he could do was look down at his hands. It wasn’t until Andrew tried to hide the tear falling down his cheek that she knew that something went horribly wrong.

Willow helped Giles up but didn’t say a word to him. All she could do was wrap her arms around the girl’s shoulders and smooth her hair down. “The doctors say she’s starting to stabilize.”

That broke Dawn, causing hot tears to burn her eyes. “No…” she tried to break out of the hold but the movement only started to buckle her knees. “It’s… not fair.”

Giles sighed from his place beside the kitchen doorway. “Life isn’t fair, Dawn. However, we all make it through. This isn’t the end of the world – we still have a ways to go-”

It was very sudden, so quick Willow barely had time to let go of her before she grabbed one of the clean plates off the counter and threw it at Giles’ head. Only the edge nicked his ear before she hurled a glass. The plate shattered just as the cup hit him in the stomach and crashed to the floor. “Shut up! Shut up! I fucking hate you! How can you even say that! How can you think like that! That’s my friend!” her eyes narrowed again before she slid a knife out of the holder on the counter and lunged at him.

Spike grabbed her by the wrist and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Dawn!”

The sudden desperate sound of her name jarred her enough to drop the knife and slowly looked back the vampire. _Dawn. You called me Dawn._ More tears bubbled up, tightening her throat. “Spike.” She began to cry harder as he pulled her to him.

Angrily, Spike eyed Giles and repeatedly ran his hand over Dawn’s hair.

\----

Several of the potentials waved her way as she walked into the hospital room. They immediately knew why she was there, so they weren’t offended when she walked by them without even a nod. However, when Spike leaned in the doorway – each knew he’d wave back. They might have not trusted him, but he had taught them so much.

“B just ran off.” Faith held up the other side of the entryway. “Think she needed some air.”

Spike just nodded, fingering the lighter in his pocket as he watched Dawn head toward the back of the room. When she disappeared behind the curtain, he slid down to the floor and chewed on the end of a cigarette. “God I hate seeing the Bit like that.”

Faith arched a fine eyebrow before she sat down outside door. “You and little Miss Muffet got a history?” she checked down the hall to see if anyone was coming. “Well, looks like someone’s got a child fetish.” 

The look he gave her was enough to stop trains. “I’m her guardian, slayer. Made a promise to Buffy that I’d watch out for little Dawnie.” He grabbed his cigarette and motioned toward the back of the room. “And let me tell you – I’ve been a fuckin’ horrible guardian to her. Seein’ her like this-” he bit off his words, looking down at the ruined cigarette. “Sorry.”

She shook her head, that classic smile playing across her lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. She’s a good kid.” Getting up, Faith started for the hall into the waiting area. “Time to play ‘Search-for-Buffy’. See you around.”

Watching her go, Spike tossed the cigarette into a nearby trashcan. “You won’t find ‘er.”

\----

“Luv?” he found Dawn asleep, with her head resting on the bed while her hand curled around Amanda’s protectively. It made something – maybe his soul – ache. Nevertheless, he shook her lightly, hoping he wouldn’t startle her.

Groggily, she looked up at him, her eyes staring at him first before moving back to Amanda. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I-” he realized she was talking to her other friend and couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t think she’ll mind, bit. She probably needed a rest anyway.”

Dawn shook her head. “I said I was going to sing her a song. She likes listening to her CDs when she feels bad. I-” she yawned, squeezing her friend’s hand. “I was trying to think of her favorite song. I finally thought of it when I fell asleep…”

Leaning over the other side of the bed, he took her hand in his. “The other girls are trying to sleep.”

She looked desperate. “I’ll sing quietly.”

He sighed. “Fine. But only one – you need to eat something.”

Agreeing silently with a hand on his arm, Dawn scooted up toward the front of the bed before squeezing Amanda’s hand again. “Hey, its still me Amanda. But look, I’ve got Spike with me.” she looked toward him. “Say hi.”

“Uh.” Spike blinked, a little lost. “Oh, hi.” He squeezed the girl’s hand. “Hi Amanda.”

Dawn smiled at Amanda happily; hoping that maybe positively would help make her better. “I know you probably miss your CD player so I thought I’d sing to you – maybe it’ll help you to come back.” She bit her lip before taking a breath to calm down. “ _This ruined puzzle is beige with the pieces all face down, so the placing goes slowly. The picture's of anything other than it's meant to be. But the hours they creep, the patterns repeat. Don't be concerned, you know I'll be fine on my own. I never said ‘don't go’._ ”

He knew this song, it was something he had heard when he was driving back to Sunnydale. Now that she was singing it, the lyrics started to come to him. “ _I've hidden a note, it's pressed between pages that you've marked to find your way back. It says, "Does he ever get the girl?" But what if the pages stay pressed, the chapters unfinished, the stories too dull to unfold? Does he ever get the girl?_ ”

Not looking back at him, Dawn kept singing softly towards her friend. “ _This basement's a coffin. I'm buried alive. I'll die in here just to be safe. I'll die in here just to be safe. 'Cause you're gone. I get nothing and you're off with barely a sigh. I never said, "Goodbye…"_ ”


	7. Judas Was a Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place an hour after ‘Empty Places’

Midnight looked so pretty – even with tears blurring it. She had to admit that to herself, even though all she could hear were her words to Buffy. They echoed inside her head and rested on her nerves. She couldn’t tell if she were saying them aloud or if her subconscious was trying to torture her.

Closing her eyes, she kick sideways again so the merry go round would go faster. It made her stomach churn – but she felt alive. That was what was wrong – she didn’t deserve to feel alive. 

A familiar crunch of pebbles could be heard a ways away. “Dawn?” Amanda came closer and grabbed onto one of the bars. The wheel stopped and Dawn felt her whole perception plunge into a downward spiral.

“God.” Dawn squinted up at her friend. “Get on or go home.”

There was a shrug before the slender female climbed onto the merry go round, shoving off the ground with her worn sneaker before she lay down beside Dawn. “Xander’s worried about you. Rona said she was sorry too.”

Blue eyes closed as the two spun. “Great.”

Amanda looked up into the night sky. “I wish I knew… how you felt.”

The sudden outburst of laughter from Dawn startled the other girl. “So you wanna feel like Judas?”

“What?” the wheel began to stop, giving Amanda that sort of high that comes from spinning and drinking. “I don’t…”

Dawn sat up and tried to stand. “Forget it. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Watching her friend get up and stagger off, Amanda struggled but rushed over, grabbing the shaky hand. “Hey wait, Dawn.”

She looked back and noticed her friend’s desperate eyes. They were familiar and yet, Amanda gave the look a somewhat newer view. “What? What do you wanna hear me say? That I’m practically sick with guilt cause I threw out my own sister? That I know the ends near and I have no idea what I’m going to do? That… that I’m scared and I’m useless and…?” tears welled up in her eyes before she closed them wearily.

“Shh.” Amanda pulled her friend into her arms and held her tight. “Shh. We’ll get through this okay? Buffy or Faith’ll probably save the day and everyone’ll move back to Sunnydale and we’ll… get tattoos or something.”

Dawn’s tired laughter was refreshing; it almost covered up the tears streaming down her face. “We’ll get ‘we survived the apocalypse, again’!”

The two began to laugh loudly, an unmistakable insanity filling them as they let out all their stress in cackles that made their stomachs cramp up. When they were finally too sore to laugh anymore, they were leaning on each other heavily; they discovered a figure standing off in the trees leading back to the house.

“Aww. That was almost a Kodak moment.” Faith stepped into the moonlight shining through the trees and motioned toward the house. The faint glow of her cigarette left a trail in the darkness around her. “Come on, Miss Muffett. You, too, Wendy Darling. Don’t want any slowpokes tomorrow during training.”

Both girls looked at one another, Faith’s nicknames causing them to share a smile. “Okay.”

Slowly, the three headed back toward the house…


	8. Last Good-byes

It was midnight before she could fall asleep. The commotion around her had finally died down and she drifted off into a vivid dream. If she had the heart to believe in such things, a ‘vision’ would have been the proper word to use. Yet even with her lack of faith, Dawn could tell something far beyond her subconscious was speaking to her. Comforting her.

In the warm desert outside of Sunnydale, Spike stood before her. His back was to the south while her’s to the north. His figure shimmered in and out of the world around them as he smiled her way. “I’ve been waiting for you, Bit. Already gave your sister her last good-byes.”

Dawn closed her eyes and tilted her head up to feel the breeze. “You really are gone.”

His voice echoed through the valley. “Heh, you live here long enough, little Bit, you start to realize no one ever really dies – they just leave for a long while and crawl back up. Hell and back, that’s the deal with everyone. Have to suffer my sins don’t I? Gettin’ a soul's the first thing, you know.”

Opening her eyes again, Dawn took a step forward, the world shifting so her feet carried her to just in front of Spike. “What do you mean?”

The older man looked off at the long stretch of earth, its horizon disappearing in darkness. “Get a soul, die to save the world, suffer for your sins in hell.” He cupped her face before he even turned to look at her. “The worlds a scary place, Dawnie.” Spike’s blue eyes looked deep into hers, “I know I promised to watch out for you, but I gotta do something that’ll make up for all the stupid things I’ve done all my life.”

She slid her hands over his. “I forgive you” his hands shivered once. “and don’t worry about me, don’t think your breaking your promise… from wherever you are. I’m not as much a ‘little bit’ as I use to be. Just know,” Dawn drew her hands away and slid them into her pockets, “that when you walk through the valley of the dead and reach the river of blood-” she pulled out two quarters from her pocket and slipped them into Spike’s hand. “That you are the bravest man I’ve ever known. That even though you’ve done some really horrible things – I forgive you. I don’t want you to ride on that boat with any excess guilt.”

The sudden embrace was filled with both a quiet mourning and a warm understanding. Spike gripped the coins in his hand tightly as he stroked her hair and squeezed her gently. This was goodbye.

“Be strong.”

* * *

The bus was quiet and dark, lit only with the soft blue glow of the moon. Dawn sat up and studied the stillness, finding they had stopped on the side of the road so everyone could sleep. Everyone, except for Andrew. She saw him staring out the emergency door window from his place in the backseat. He noticed her only when she stood and silently wandered back to him. She didn’t have to ask if he wanted company, he merely slid over in the seat and looked up at her with tragic eyes.

Dawn sat down and pulled him into a comforting embrace. “Be strong.”

[The End]


End file.
